Sorry If This One Is Too Confusing 😭 

How Not to Court Your Crush: A Disaster in Six Acts - Malleus Draconia x reader

You're trying to court Malleus so why is he acting so weird? Malleus is trying to court you, so why are you acting so weird.

aka you try fae courtship and malleus tries human courtship, you both fail spectacularly.

Scene 1: The Offering of... Chaos?

You were determined. Absolutely, one hundred percent determined to win over Malleus Draconia’s heart the fae way. You’d done your research—well, half-researched. You might’ve skimmed some books. Okay, maybe you watched some video where a guy talked about it for 10 minutes. But still! You were ready to tackle fae courting, head-on.

Which is why you were standing in the middle of the campus courtyard holding a potted mandrake. Because, according to some source (you couldn’t quite remember which), gifting rare plants was a surefire way to court a fae prince.

Unfortunately, no one told you that the mandrake in question would scream like a banshee as soon as you yanked it out of the dirt.

"Behold!" You shouted, thrusting the potted terror toward Malleus, who had appeared in his usual fashion—stealthy and majestic, like a dragon perching on a mountain. "A rare gift for the noble Prince of Briar Valley!"

The mandrake, in all its wailing glory, let out a soul-piercing shriek. Nearby students flung themselves behind trees and bushes. Sebek fainted. Silver, as usual, napped through the chaos.

Malleus blinked at you. Once. Twice. His face was a mixture of confusion and slight amusement. "Are you... trying to summon something?"

You frowned. "Summon? No! This is for you!" You held the screaming mandrake higher, like an offering to some ancient god. "As a... token of my appreciation! You like plants, right?"

The mandrake let out a final, particularly blood-curdling scream before going silent, wilting slightly in the pot. Malleus blinked once. Twice. “I... do like plants, yes. But usually... not ones that wish to harm me.”

You grinned, proud of your extremely thoughtful choice. “Well, this one just has personality!”

Malleus cautiously took the pot from you, staring down at the now exhausted mandrake. “Thank you,” he said, sounding unsure if you were joking or being sincere. “I’ll... treasure it.”

Somewhere in the distance, Ace and Deuce exchanged pitying looks. “Man,” Ace muttered, “he doesn’t deserve this.”

Scene 2: The Worst Poem Ever Written

Malleus had been doing his own research—much more thorough than yours, of course. He’d read books. Lots of them. Mostly ancient tomes from his castle library that were centuries old. After all, human courting customs couldn’t have changed that much, right?

His plan was foolproof: Humans enjoyed poetry. Therefore, he would craft you the most beautiful, heart-stopping poem ever written, and your affection for him would blossom like the midnight roses of Briar Valley.

He found you sitting under a tree near the school, probably recovering from your last spectacular fae courting attempt (the less said about the mandrake incident, the better). Malleus approached with all the grace of a dark prince, his black cloak billowing in the wind, carrying a scroll in his hand.

"Dearest," he began, as you looked up from your phone. "I have composed a poem for you. An ode to your beauty and grace."

Your eyebrows shot up. "Really?"

"Yes. Please, allow me." He unfurled the scroll dramatically.

You sat back, intrigued. This was either going to be a disaster or absolute gold. Either way, you were ready.

Malleus cleared his throat, then began to read with all the gravitas of a Shakespearean actor:

"Your hair, like the moss that grows on the oldest tombstones,

Your eyes, like the deepest, darkest, creepiest of wells,

Your voice, as soothing as the distant scream of a lost soul..."

You snorted. "What?"

"Your beauty is like the moon, that I can never reach, because it is in the sky... far away... and also made of rock." He paused, glancing at you hopefully. “Do you like it so far?”

You bit your lip, desperately trying not to laugh. "Um... It's... something. Keep going."

Malleus beamed. "There’s more!"

"Your hands, soft like the belly of a small woodland creature..." He continued, and you finally lost it, howling with laughter. “Is it not... moving?”

You waved your hands, barely able to breathe through your giggles. "Malleus! Are you... Are you serious?!"

“I thought humans liked dark poetry,” he said, looking genuinely concerned.

“Well, some do, but—” You stopped yourself, trying not to laugh. “No, wait, keep going. I want to hear more.”

Malleus, relieved, continued. “Your beauty is like the full moon—cold, distant, and surrounded by darkness.”

Somewhere behind a nearby tree, Lilia was biting his lip to stop from laughing, while Ace and Deuce shared looks of absolute pity for their friend and Malleus.

Ace shook his head. “Poor guy. He’s trying so hard.”

Scene 3: The... Ambush?

Since the plant-gifting thing didn’t go quite as planned, you decided that maybe a more public display of affection would be the ticket. According to something you half-remembered (and maybe misunderstood), fae really appreciated grand gestures of intent. So, naturally, you chose the school cafeteria at lunchtime as your stage.

As you climbed on top of a table, all eyes turned toward you. Malleus sat at a corner table, watching you with his usual calm, collected demeanor, but you could see the confusion in his eyes.

"Prince Malleus!" you shouted dramatically, lifting your arms in the air. “I declare before all of these witnesses that I shall offer this to you!”

The cafeteria fell into dead silence. Well, except for Lilia, who was quietly choking on his laughter in the background.

Malleus blinked, his expression unreadable. “You... what?”

"Yes! I offer you—" you pulled out the cabbage you’d swiped from the kitchen earlier—"this symbol of my devotion!"

Malleus stared at the cabbage in your hands. "Is that... a vegetable?"

“Yes! It’s a sign of fertility or... something.” You weren’t entirely sure, but it sounded right. “I picked it myself!”

Malleus blinked again, clearly trying to process this information. “I... appreciate the gesture."

Lilia butts in. "Beastie, I’m afraid cabbages aren’t typically used in fae courting rituals.”

You pouted, hopping off the table. “What? But I read that—"

“Perhaps... next time, try flowers?”

Behind you, Ace facepalmed. “Oh, man. They're hopeless.”

Scene 4: The Gift of... Dirt?

Malleus was now absolutely convinced that something was seriously wrong with you. You seemed... more chaotic than usual, and while he enjoyed your enthusiasm, he had no idea why you were suddenly thrusting vegetables at him.

In his effort to reciprocate (and maybe figure out what was going on), he decided to give you a gift of his own. A very special one. From his homeland.

After all, humans liked sentimental gifts, right?

That’s why, one morning, he approached you with a small velvet pouch in his hand, his face filled with sincerity. “Child of Man, I have something for you.”

“Oh?” You tilted your head, curious. “What’s that?”

He handed you the pouch, and you opened it, only to find... dirt. Black, slightly glittery dirt.

You stared at it. Then at him. Then back at the dirt. “Is this... dirt?”

“Yes,” Malleus said proudly. “From Briar Valley. It’s a very special soil, infused with the magic of my homeland.”

You blinked. “You got me dirt.”

“Very magical dirt,” he corrected, as if that made it better.

You bit back a laugh, trying to keep a straight face. “Um... thanks?”

Ace, watching from a distance, nudged Deuce. “Man, They're gonna end up with a garden at this rate.”

Scene 5: The Unnecessary Duel

Clearly, you had been doing something wrong, because your attempts at fae courtship had been met with nothing but polite confusion. But you were nothing if not determined. The next step in your (completely misguided) strategy? Prove your strength in battle. Duh.

You marched up to Malleus one afternoon, sword in hand, and pointed it at his chest. "Malleus Draconia! I challenge you to a duel!"

Malleus blinked at you, clearly baffled. “A duel? With... me?”

“Yes!” you declared, brandishing the sword with a flourish. “I shall prove myself worthy of your admiration through combat!”

Malleus tilted his head. “You... wish to fight me?”

You nodded enthusiastically. “Yes! To the death! Or until someone taps out. Whatever works.”

Malleus looked utterly bewildered but amused. “I... see. But are you sure this is necessary?”

"Absolutely. I need to show you my strength." You tried to strike a dramatic pose, but the sword was way heavier than it looked.

Lilia, perched nearby, was barely containing his laughter. “Oh, this is too good.”

Malleus raised his hand. “Perhaps another time. I would not want to harm you.”

You frowned. “Harm me? Pfft. I’m tougher than I look, dragon boy.”

Scene 6: The Romantic Walk—Through a Thunderstorm

Malleus had one last idea. Humans, he’d read, liked romantic walks. That was simple, right? No vegetables. No poetry. Just a quiet stroll. What could possibly go wrong?

Unfortunately, he decided to take you for a walk through the forest on a day when the sky decided to unleash the full wrath of a thunderstorm. And because he was a fae, storms didn’t bother him.

You, on the other hand, were not a fan of being drenched to the bone.

The rain came down in sheets, lightning crackling overhead as you both trudged through the mud. You tried to keep your umbrella steady, but the wind whipped it inside out almost immediately.

“Malleus,” you called over the storm, shouting to be heard. “Why are we walking in this? Are you trying to drown me?”

Malleus, entirely unfazed by the downpour, turned to you, his face serious. “I thought a walk through nature would be a calming experience for you.”

You stared at him, your hair sticking to your face, clothes soaked through, and boots filled with mud. “Calming?! I’m about to be struck by lightning!”

He blinked, as if only now realizing the storm might be an issue for you. “Ah, I see. Humans are... more susceptible to storms. My apologies.”

“Ya think?” You huffed, clutching your now-ruined umbrella. “A ‘romantic stroll’ usually involves good weather.”

Malleus frowned, looking genuinely troubled. “I thought the power of the storm would inspire awe.”

“Yeah, it’s inspiring me to run back inside.” You sighed, shivering. “This is... sweet, I guess. But, uh, maybe next time we check the weather before planning any ‘romantic’ activities?”

As you struggled to wipe rain from your face, you caught a glimpse of Lilia again—he was standing under a tree, dry as could be, watching the scene unfold with glee. His mischievous grin practically radiated from the shadows.

“You’re having fun with this, aren’t you?” you shouted toward him, but Lilia just waved, clearly loving the chaos.

Malleus, still deep in thought about his failed attempt at human courtship, suddenly looked serious. “Perhaps a different form of human bonding is needed next time.”

Behind you, Ace and Deuce were trailing a safe distance away, both dripping wet but trying to keep from laughing too loudly.

“Man,” Ace muttered, shaking his head. “They're gonna give the poor guy a heart attack one day.”

Deuce nodded solemnly. “Or he’ll get us all killed.”

After days of mutual confusion and failed courtship rituals, you found yourself, once again, sitting with Malleus in one of the school’s many quiet courtyards.

“Y’know,” you began, squinting at him. “I feel like you’ve been acting weird lately.”

Malleus gave you a similar look. “I’ve been thinking the same about you.”

You blinked. “Wait, me? What do you mean?”

“Well,” Malleus said, his brow furrowed, “you’ve been offering me... odd gifts. Vegetables. Challenging me to duels. Declaring intentions in public spaces. It’s... unusual.”

You froze. “That’s... fae courtship. I’ve been trying to... y’know...”

Malleus’ eyes widened. “You’ve been attempting to court me?”

Your face flushed. “Well, yeah! I thought you were acting strange, so I figured you were waiting for someone to, I don’t know, woo you.”

Malleus’ confusion quickly shifted to amusement. “I’ve been trying to court you this whole time.”

Your jaw dropped. “You’re what?!”

“I believed you were in distress, so I attempted human courting rituals. Clearly, they didn’t go as planned.”

You both stared at each other for a long moment, the realization of mutual failure sinking in. Then, unexpectedly, you burst out laughing, and Malleus, after a moment, chuckled too.

“Well,” you managed between laughs, “we really suck at this.”

“Indeed,” Malleus agreed, his eyes warm with amusement. “Perhaps next time, we should... communicate better.”

“Yeah,” you said, wiping a tear from your eye. “That might help.”

From a safe distance, Lilia watched, his face beaming with pride. “Ah, young love,” he sighed dramatically. “How wonderfully chaotic.”

Ace shook his head, utterly done with the entire situation. “They’re hopeless.”

Deuce nodded in agreement. “At least it’s finally over... right?”

They're so stupid (affectionate)

Masterlist

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Passionate Hearts — Overblots x gn! reader

summery: what making out with the overblots is like.

tw: steamy-ish, this is as steamy as I'll ever get (not much at all lmao)

a/n: idk where this came from. Idek how good this is. I don't even like writing steamy stuff so this kinda reads more artistic somehow?? Idk

wc: 1.3k (~ 185 per character)

Master List

❥ Riddle Rosehearts

How uncouth of him. He can’t seem to stop you as you continue to enchant him with your lovely kisses. Riddle is nothing but a lovesick fool when it comes to you, and it becomes apparent as your kiss becomes more fervent. He’s a blushing mess as you seem to be unable to pull away. His heart is a stuttering mess, and he never wants you to stop. No matter how passionate your kisses become, it's still gentle. The way he caresses your face is soft, his lips caressing yours so lovely that you feel weak in the knees. And when you pull away, finally getting your fill of his love, you both are a bit of a mess. Hair slightly disheveled, clothes a bit crooked, lips a bit puffy. You couldn’t complain though, it wasn’t every day that you saw the Heartslabyul housewarden so unkempt. Riddle also didn’t seem to mind so much, as long as you only do such actions behind closed doors. He doesn’t think he could handle the embarrassment if Ace or Deuce caught you both in such an intimate act.

❥ Leona Kingscholar

Unlike Riddle, Leona is ruthless when it comes to your more passionate moments. Fervent kisses turn wild with lips being bit and prodding tongues. It feels like you’re being devoured every time and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You had never seen him so passionate about something until he refused to let your lips part. He loved the way you felt, your soft lips puffy with abuse, hair tangled between his fingers. Leona was addicted to your taste and he isn’t shy about it. Sure, he is a bit lazy, beckoning you to come closer to him, but he’ll leave you breathless and wanting more by the end. It isn’t fair how unaffected he seems after he’s done, pulling you closer for a nap (he needed to re-energize after all that labor). His silky hair was barely rustled, his clothes as messy as they normally were. The only evidence of your actions was his slightly puffy lips. Don’t worry though, people know he’s yours with the way he’ll kiss you anywhere anytime. Leona isn’t afraid to put some runts in their place.

❥ Azul Ashengrotto

Azul has a love-hate relationship with the idea of kissing you. On one hand, he can’t live without your lips slotted on his, on the other…he hates how vulnerable he feels. Though that feeling dissipates quickly when he’s suddenly surrounded with you. Your touch, your smell, you love. He’s a greedy man and he’ll take any attention from you he can get. His kisses turn desperate quickly, like he’d die if you were to pull away. Azul is a bit more of a messy kisser than he’d like to admit. His desperation for your love overpowers any of his other thoughts and he finds himself scrambling for purchase, holding onto you for dear life. Azul looks at you with so much love when you pull away you feel like your heart is about to explode. As much as he’d like to continue, he forlornly concludes that you both can’t stay like this forever. Perhaps another time, you’re always welcome in his VIP room at the lounge after all…just make sure Jade and Floyd don’t notice your disheveled appearance as you exit. 

❥ Jamil Viper

It wasn’t often that Jamil indulged in such acts. Let himself be so vulnerable. But as you continued to leave sweet short kisses, he found his resolve crumbling. It scared him that you were able to make him give in so easily, but he trusted you, something that not many people had. His kisses feel a bit controlling, his hand pressed against the back of your neck keeping you in place. Jamil’s kisses are slow and deliberate. Every action has its purpose, and he loves to take his time and savor you. You find yourself hypnotized without his signature spell. Despite the deeply intimate act, he’s still tender with you. Jamil isn’t touchy with you often, so he’ll make sure you know how much he loves you. He hates to admit how he doesn’t want to stop, but his break is almost over. You’re more messy looking than he is at the end, and Jamil can’t help but look smug. People won’t catch you in the act, but it raises some eyebrows when you come out of Jamil’s room a little more messy than when you entered. 

❥ Vil Schoenheit

You lucky bastard. Another one that doesn’t indulge in such actions often. Vil doesn’t like to admit how much you get to him. The fact that he restrains from any physical affection with you mixed with how much he wants to drown you in love…yeah lets say he finds himself releasing his pent up emotions on your poor lips. He only allows such acts when you're both unwinding for the day, and you are not allowed to leave any evidence (he has an image to uphold). Vil kisses you with so much passion you’re left breathless with the first one, and he won’t hold up either. You seriously question his remark of you being his first partner because the way he kisses you makes him feel like an expert. He looks like a God (always) by the end. Eyes dilated, chest heaving, golden hair barely out of place (but enough to make your heart flutter, you did that). Once you both slow down, he’ll pepper your face with kisses wishing you a good night's rest as he plays with your hair…you're not sure if you could sleep after that. 

❥ Idia Shroud

You will always be the one to initiate such intimate acts. As much as he wants to, he’s too shy. An innocent kiss going a little farther as Idia couldn’t resist the temptation that was you. And as your lips locked, Idia found his nervous energy leaving him as his mind melted into a goop. His kisses are inexperienced, teeth clashing with yours (he didn’t mean too), but he’ll learn over time. He can be a fast learner, and who wouldn’t want to get some practice in? (Idia is more willing than you’d think). He gets a bit uncharacteristically confident the longer you two kiss. Pressing your lips together more firmly, shaking hands holding onto your figure, small whimpers swallowed by your awaiting mouth. Both of you are flustered beyond imagination by the end, warm cheeks and fast beating hearts, shaky breaths. Just like that, Idia finds himself short circuiting. You were just so amazing, lovely, warm…you were gonna kill him one day. Don’t even think of doing anything like that in public though, he might actually die (and cry and never go outside again). 

❥ Malleus Draconia

Every time you shared a kiss it would be one of passion. Malleus loves you so much he felt the need to express it, make sure you clearly understood how much you meant to him. But you would have to be the one to push further, as Malleus usually left it at one kiss, he wanted you to set the pace. He won’t back down if you continue to kiss him, his actions will become more possessive. Hands that cradled your cheeks move to the back of your head, his kisses becoming more hungry. He basks in your warmth, in your love, in your being. He loses himself in you, and he internally thanks you for allowing himself to indulge in your love. Malleus isn’t foolish enough to think it's appropriate for such actions to be indulged in with others present…but he also finds himself uncaring. He loves you, and if you wish it, who was he to deny? (Sebek will be so stunned that he can’t get any words out). Not to mention how exhilarating to see the fae prince’s composure shattered. Pink cheeks, dilated eyes, puffy lips…oh what a sight indeed.

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hi!! can i req some fic with malleus x reader where his lover suddenly avoid and ignore him for days so malleus confront you one day bc he couldn't handle it anymore. also the reason of avoidance is bc u think you're not fit to be with him since he's a royal and you're just an ordinary human. i just want it to be sooo angsty at start but gets fluff later. thank you!!

Malleus Draconia x reader

Thank you for the request, I hope you like it <3

You hadn’t meant to hurt him, but somehow, that’s exactly what you were doing.

It started a few days ago. A nagging thought had burrowed into your mind, gnawing away at your self-esteem. What are you doing with someone like him? Malleus Draconia, the Crown Prince of Briar Valley, a powerful fae with a lineage as ancient as time itself. And you? Just an ordinary human, with nothing particularly remarkable about you—certainly nothing that made you worthy of standing at his side.

The weight of the difference between you two had grown unbearable, until it became all-consuming.

So, you stopped going to the castle. Stopped seeking him out for walks in the woods, for evening tea beneath the stars. When you did see him by chance, you’d look away, avoid his eyes, excuse yourself before any meaningful conversation could happen. The thought of him realizing how ill-suited you were as his partner terrified you more than anything else.

So, you pushed him away. If you could distance yourself now, it would hurt less later, right?

But then came the quiet moments at night, alone in your room, where the guilt twisted in your gut like a knife. Malleus had always been nothing but kind to you—soft-spoken and gentle, full of unspoken warmth. Yet here you were, hurting him without giving him the chance to understand why.

The third day of your avoidance dawned overcast, as if the sky itself was mirroring the storm within your heart. You hadn’t even made it down the path leading away from your cottage when you saw him—Malleus, standing there like a statue, waiting for you.

You froze. There was no escaping now.

“Malleus,” you managed to breathe, his name heavy on your tongue.

He looked at you, his usual composed expression tinged with something unfamiliar. Worry? Sadness? No, it was deeper than that—something you had never seen before in his eyes. He's hurt.

“Why?” His voice was quiet, but it carried the weight of a thousand unspoken questions. “Why are you avoiding me?”

Your throat tightened. The raw vulnerability in his voice was like a punch to the gut. He wasn’t demanding. He wasn’t angry. He was just…broken, trying to understand what he had done wrong.

“Malleus, I—” You couldn’t look him in the eyes. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Then why?” His voice cracked, just the tiniest bit. “Why are you pulling away from me?”

“I—” You swallowed the lump in your throat, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. The green of his eyes glowed faintly in the dim light, filled with confusion and pain. “I’m not like you. I’m just…me. I’m just human.”

Malleus frowned, his brows drawing together in confusion. “I know that. You’ve always been human. Why does that matter now?”

“It matters because you’re Malleus Draconia!” The words spilled out before you could stop them. “You’re royalty, you’re fae, you’re powerful, you’re everything! And I’m…nothing. I can’t keep pretending I’m worthy of being by your side.”

For a long moment, there was only silence. Malleus didn’t speak, didn’t move. His expression was unreadable, and the longer the quiet stretched on, the more your heart shattered. You were waiting for it—the moment he would agree, the moment he would confirm what you had feared all along.

Instead, he took a slow, deliberate step forward.

“You think you’re not worthy?” His voice was soft, but there was a trembling edge to it, like he was holding back something powerful. “Is that what you’ve been thinking all this time?”

You nodded, biting down hard on your lip to keep from crying.

Malleus closed the distance between you in two long strides, his tall figure looming over you but without an ounce of intimidation. Instead, his eyes—glowing faintly, green like the heart of a storm—looked down at you with such tenderness, it was almost too much to bear.

“You truly believe that I am above you? That I see you as lesser?” His voice shook slightly, his usually calm demeanor unraveling. “You think that I would have chosen you, spent all this time with you, if I thought you were unworthy?”

Your breath hitched, your heart hammering against your ribs. “But… I’m just—”

“You are not ‘just’ anything,” he interrupted, his voice firmer now. “Do you know how long I have watched from the shadows, yearning to be invited, to be accepted? Do you understand how precious you are to me?”

Your chest ached at his words, a flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm you.

Malleus gently cupped your face in his hands, his touch featherlight, as if you were something fragile. His eyes, glowing brighter now, bore into yours with an intensity that stole the breath from your lungs. “You are more than enough, just as you are.”

“I…” Tears welled in your eyes, and you hated yourself for it. You had tried so hard to push him away, thinking it was for the best. But now, standing here, with Malleus looking at you like you were the most important thing in his world, all of your resolve crumbled.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Before you could say anything else, Malleus pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you in a gentle but firm embrace. The warmth of him surrounded you, and for a moment, it was like the world had stopped spinning. The tension that had been suffocating you for days melted away in the safety of his arms.

“I could never think less of you,” Malleus murmured into your hair. “You are the one who makes me feel understood, who treats me as someone beyond a title, beyond power.”

You choked out a sob, burying your face into his chest. His words, his kindness, they were too much. How could someone like him care so deeply about someone like you?

“I don’t care about titles,” he continued softly, his fingers gently threading through your hair. “I care about you—the one who has been brave enough to see me for who I am, not for the crown I wear.”

You wanted to say something, anything, but all that came out was a broken sob. You had been so blind, so consumed by your own insecurities that you hadn’t realized how much you had hurt him in the process.

“I don’t want to lose you,” Malleus whispered, his voice so quiet you almost missed it. “Please… don’t leave me.”

Your heart shattered at the raw vulnerability in his voice. You pulled back just enough to look up at him, tears still streaming down your cheeks. His expression was open, unguarded—so different from the composed prince you were used to seeing. This was Malleus, stripped of all his titles and power, just a man afraid of losing the person he cared about.

“I won’t leave,” you promised, your voice shaking. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He stared at you for a long moment, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. When he found none, he let out a shaky breath and rested his forehead against yours.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

The two of you stood there for what felt like an eternity, wrapped in each other’s warmth. Slowly, the storm of emotions that had been swirling around you both began to calm, leaving behind a soft, comfortable silence.

Malleus pulled back slightly, just enough to look down at you, his thumb gently brushing away the last of your tears. “You are precious to me,” he said softly, his lips curving into a small, almost shy smile. “More than you know.”

You couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your own lips. “Even when I’m being ridiculous?”

He chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Especially then.”

A soft laugh escaped you, the tension finally breaking. “I really was ridiculous, wasn’t I?”

Malleus shook his head, his smile growing just a little. “Not ridiculous. Just… misguided.”

“Well, I’m done being misguided,” you said firmly, reaching up to cup his face in your hands. “From now on, I’m sticking by your side, whether you like it or not.”

His eyes softened, and for a moment, you saw something flicker in them—something warm, something hopeful. “I would like nothing more.”

You smiled up at him, your heart feeling lighter than it had in days. “Good.”

And in that moment, you knew—no matter what came next, no matter how daunting the future might seem—you would face it together.

Masterlist

not sure if it's because I'm on my period but I made myself cry lol

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Operation Lonely Lion

summary: the first year's misguided attempt to get the two loneliest people on campus together type of post: fic includes: leona (romantic) ace, deuce, jack, epel, and sebek (platonic) additional info: reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu

You haven't smiled in days.

You were back in Ramshackle, snug under piles of blankets, warm by the fire, a mug of your favorite hot drink in hand, and you pouted. You moped. You sighed.

You were downright miserable.

"D'you think it's the cold?" Deuce asks, closing the front door delicately, as if the sound might disturb you.

Ace scoffs. "Don't be dense. They've been acting like this since Azul's overblot,"

"Then that's it?"

Ace sticks his hands in his pockets and the two start their long, snowy walk back to the mirror chamber.

"Three overblots in..." Deuce counts on his fingers. "...Four months takes a toll on you."

"You and I know the Prefect better than anyone, and I don't think that's what's causing... this," Ace says.

"Hey, you two!"

Ace and Deuce tense on instinct, taught and upright, shoulders back and stiff like soldiers. But it's only Jack, not their housewarden, jogging to keep up with them in the cold.

"What're you doing out here so late?" he pants, winded from the snow and the ten shopping bags he's carrying on each arm and in each hand.

Ace rolls his eyes, and Deuce replies. "Visiting the Prefect. They've been weird lately... What're all those?"

"Hm?" Jack glances at the bags on his arms, as if he'd forgotten they were there. "Meat."

"Meat?"

"Yeah. Leona's been grumpy all week, and it's stressing Ruggie out, so he's having me run for groceries,"

"In this weather?" Ace grumbles.

Jack ignores him. "You say the Prefect is weird? Are they sick? I could run back to Sam's for medicine,"

"No, not sick. Just..." Deuce says. "Moping around, lying on the floor, sighing all the time."

Jack's ears prick up. The wind howls, blowing bittercold snow over them. It's late in the day, but the three boys suddenly seem more awake than before.

"...Same thing with Leona. I mean, he's always kind of like that, but it's been worse ever since..."

Deuce's eyes widen. "...Ever since the Prefect moved out of his room and back to Ramshackle,"

The wind settles, and the snow with it. Ace sputters, shaking the white stuff off his shoulders.

"That's it? They miss each other?"

Jack scratches the back of his head. "I couldn't imagine living in Ramshackle all alone. No one for company but Grim and ghosts..."

An eerie silence. Ace scoffs. Deuce watches his boots as they crunch the compact snow underfoot. Jack awkwardly adjusts his bags of beef.

Finally, Ace sighs. "Are we all having the same stupid idea?"

First Objective: The Setup

"I hope you guys don't mind, but I brought someone,"

Jack's silhouette casts a shadow over the wobbly, three-legged table Deuce had dragged from the curb, which Ace is decorating with tea lights from their dorm.

"...Uh," Ace says. "Dude, there's no one there. If this is your weird way of saying you wanna take over decorating, you can just ask. I'm not exactly an expert."

"Eh?" Jack jolts. "Oh! I'm in the way."

Ace rolls his eyes as the tall beastman steps aside, leaving a smaller, less scary boy in his place.

"Howdy!" he chimes.

"This is Epel. He's in my class. He's real good with food."

Epel smiles. "Aw, shucks. I just know my way around a barbeque, 'thas all. And anything to get outta dinner with my dorm. Now, 'les see..."

Ace and Deuce step aside, letting Epel have a look at the mountain of meat behind them.

"...Yup," he nods. "I could whip up a good Harveston-style barbeque with this in no time- oh, I'll haveta get some apples from my dorm for the-"

"On it," Jack barks, tearing out of the building as if it were on fire.

Then it's just the three of them, though Epel is already mumbling about spices and marinades under his breath, holding the thawing meat as if it were made of gold.

Weird. Ace looks at Deuce. "Someone's gonna have to get Grim outta the way. The second he hears dinner, he'll come scratching at the door like he's been starved,"

"And Ruggie," Deuce mumbles. "We'll need something that will distract them both..."

Ace smirks. "Leave that to me,"

Second Objective: The Distraction

Ace whistles a merry tune as he slides a plate of doughnuts under a box propped up with a stick, the words "FREE" scribbled on the cardboard in black ink.

Third Objective: The Secret

The smell of spices and cinnamon makes the dim, dirty botanical gardens almost serene. Epel whistles while he works, slicing apples with a precision that's almost superhuman.

Deuce had awkwardly thrown a few empty sacks of seed together, making a tablecloth, and Ace had dragged a few folding chairs out of school storage (may Crewel have mercy on their souls).

Bunsen burners make for good cooking, and Epel was nearly done with the main course.

"...Now, how're we gonna convince those two to come out here?" Ace asks, dusting the last of the dirt off the chairs. "The Prefect'll be easy, but Leona..."

"HALT! WHO GOES THERE!"

Deuce jumps. Epel nearly drops his knife into the open flame. Ace groans. "Please, Sevens, not him,"

Sebek throws open the doors of the gardens, letting a gust of cold winter wind inside. "Ne'er-do-wells! Just as my knightly senses had suspected! State your purpose at once!"

Ace sighs. "Sebek-"

"I shall have your conspiracy turned over to the Headmage- breaking curfew, stealing supplies, and- c-cooking-? What are you making?"

"This? Apples baked in cinnamon, and-" Epel is hushed by a hissing Ace.

"Don't tell him anything. He's a narc,"

"YOUR INSULTS WON'T SAVE YOU FROM A SWIFT AND JUST PUNISHMENT!"

"S-Sebek, wait!" Deuce says. "This isn't what it looks like. We're just... we're trying to... we..."

Sebek's slitted eyes narrow at the meager setup. The broken table, the planter plates, the Bunsen burner barbeque...

"Hmph. I see," he says. The others tense, even the wind seems to wait and listen, and-

"You've arranged a romantic rendezvous for forbidden lovers! Worry not, your secret is safe with me!"

Ace and Deuce both give each other a look. Jack scratches the back of his head. Even Epel is confused.

"How'dya know all that?"

"Hm," Sebek smirks, crossing his arms. "Any fool with eyes and an intimate knowledge of the Briar Valley court rules from six hundred years ago could deduce as much. I was just reading of this sort of affair between a count and a kitchen maid, in which-"

"Alright, alright! Just promise not to tell," Ace sighs.

"As I said, your secret is safe with me. Now, how may I be of service?"

Fourth Objective: The Invitations

"We're going to need a good excuse," Deuce says, pacing. "The Prefect will be easy. But Leona-"

"-Will question every damn thing until 'ya give him a straight answer," Epel sighs. "He's like that at Spelldrive practice, too."

Sebek finishes lighting the last of the tealights, an unexpectedly delicate task for him, and thinks.

"I will retrieve the Prefect. I elect Jack Howl to retrieve Kingscholar- the disrespectful human- as a member of his dorm,"

Jack scratches the back of his neck, glancing awkwardly at the glass ceiling. "I dunno, it's not like he'd treat me any different than the rest of you, but... eh... wait, I've got it. I know what'll get him here for sure! Let's go,"

Sebek is swifter, bursting into Ramshackle with the ardor of a battle cry.

"PREFECT, YOU MUST FOLLOW ME AT ONCE! YOUR DIREBEAST HAS BECOME STUCK INSIDE A FLASK IN THE BOTANICAL GARDENS!"

You pale. "Oh, no, not again!"

Jack walks to Savanaclaw, knocks before coming into Leona's room, and talks with feigned worry.

"Leona, come quick! Vil tripped on one of the sleeves of his dorm uniform like you always say he's going to, and he fell and-"

Leona shoots up straight in bed. "Where?"

"-In the botanical gardens, and-"

The Housewarden is already putting on his shoes, smiling like he just won something. "Face-first? In the dirt?"

"...Uh, sure, but- aren't you worried-"

"Oh, yeah, yeah, it's a real tragedy," he stands, making sure his phone camera is ready.

"Lead the way."

Fifth Objective: The Date

"We really didn't think this one through, huh?"

Ace grumbles, watching you and Leona walk towards the botanical garden from different directions. Deuce glances at him.

"No music, no entertainment, no warning, no-"

"Well, we got plenty 'a food, so quit your whining and help me plate these!" Epel shouts.

Ace and Deuce wince. "Man, he can be scary when he wants to,"

The glass doors of the gardens swing open, and Leona and you nearly walk right into each other. You stumble, almost into the dirt, but Leona catches you by the arm.

"Ah- Leona?"

"Herbivore?"

"Sssuuurpriiiise...." Ace says, forcing a weak smile.

You and Leona both look at him, then at the ugly table, then at Epel, still crouched over the burner on the floor.

And then...

"Heh. Haha, hahahaha!"

You both burst into laughter, losing your balance and tumbling into the grass and dirt. Ace and Deuce stand over you, waiting for you to breathe again.

"...It's not that funny," Ace mutters.

Leona stands first, and then pulls you to your feet like a proper gentleman. He dusts the dirt off his pants.

"You froshes are really something else. This is all for us?"

Deuce nods. "We thought-" but Ace slaps a hand over his mouth and smiles. "Just... go with it?"

...And you do.

For all of two hours preparation, the date is surprisingly fancy... in... its own way. The food is good, the seating is comfortable, and Sebek even recites his favorite poetry in place of music.

At least you're smiling again. That counts as a success for the first years.

And at the end of it, even Leona looks pleased.

"You kids don't know when to give up, I'll give you that," he grins. "But I'm still gonna kill all of you for this tomorrow."

They laugh awkwardly.

The End

After handing your unfinished food to the drooling first-years, you clear your throat.

"So, Grim's not... really stuck in a flask, is he? That was a lie to get me here?"

They shake their heads, and you sigh. "Can never be too sure... where is he, anyway?"

"Probably in a box outside," Ace says without thinking, and Epel smacks him upside the head.

"What?"

Deuce sighs. "See... the thing is, Ace had this thought..."

Your eyes widen as he explains, and you stand, going straight for the door. Leona and the first years follow.

"Come on!" Leona yells after you. "There's no way anyone would actually fall for such a stupid-"

You pull the aforementioned box off the ground, and Ruggie and Grim are curled up beneath it, both covered in icing, jam, and sugar, snoozing away.

You all sigh, and Leona smirks.

"Seems like someone had an even better time than us,"

---

celebrating your birthday with the twst boys hcs part 4, ft. diasomnia, the after party w/ the first years

read part 1 here read part 2 here read part 3 here

general tags: gender neutral reader, sfw, hcs for both prefect and non-prefect reader, platonic and romantic hcs, food mentions, runs on the assumption that reader wants to celebrate their birthday, not beta read

author's note: oops forgot to post the last part! finally done with this series of hcs, after this... my next writing post will be another one-shot so see u then!

total wc: 4.9k+ words (700-1.2k+ words each character)

MALLEUS DRACONIA

If you consider him a friend at the very least, please send him an invitation should you hold a party (which, considering what we know of the NRC birthday culture, seems to be expected). 

If you’re a close friend and/or his partner, it should go without saying that you should invite him, else he’s definitely going to be more upset than usual with this particular instance. He’s not lashing out or throwing a tantrum about it, but he does feel saddened by the choice.

If you tell him in advance, he’s going to spend a lot of time thinking about your invitation and your birthday in general. He’s probably sitting down in Diasomnia’s lounge, looking as if he’s brooding over something incredibly serious like the state of affairs in his homeland, when in reality he’s thinking about what to give you as a gift.

In general incredibly grateful to be invited. Whether you tell him the day of or weeks before, he’s simply beaming at the thought. It looks a little ominous to an outsider, especially because Malleus is smiling with his teeth, fangs and all, but his inner circle get the details and they understand he’s just very proud of himself.

Sebek and Silver are probably applauding and nodding their heads in approval at the announcement because yes, who would be silly enough to not invite the Young Master, the chance to have someone like him celebrate you (Sebek) and finally, someone has not forgotten to invite Lord Malleus, and even invited him personally (Silver).

(If you’re not close to Sebek, Sebek is heavily contemplating if he should present you a gift as well since Malleus is doing so)

Meanwhile, Lilia’s teasing him about it. Malleus is in too much of a good mood to tell off anyone for what’s coming close to pandering, like yes, behold! An invitation! You just know if the invitation comes in a physical form, he’s presenting it to the three of them. His more childish side comes up just this once.

And then he keeps the invite somewhere safe somewhere in his room. 

In terms of helping you prepare a party… Well, he cannot say he actually has any experience in the preparation aspect, whether it be setting up the decorations or making food, but ahhh, since you’ve invited him he’s willing to show his gratitude. Magic will do the trick, won’t it?

(If you insist on doing things without magic, he’ll probably still do it, chuckling about how interesting it is for you to make demands of him. Also considers it a good learning experience, of which he can make discoveries from)

Let’s avoid having him set up any tech needed though.

If you’re the Ramshackle prefect, he does give you the option to host your party in his dorm, but he likes Ramshackle a lot so either place works for him.

During the party itself, reactions might differ in extremity depending on your relationship status with Malleus, and how public the both of you are about it. 

If it seems to be similar to the current canon friendship between Malleus and the Ramshackle prefect, expect a lot of people to carry mixed emotions. Surprise, shock, intimidation—all of it bundled up into essentially them finding you fascinating and terribly brave, perhaps fearless, at how you casually have the Malleus Draconia at your party, clapping along to the obligatory Happy Birthday song playing in the background.

Most guests will still find themselves a little intimidated at Malleus’ presence if it’s well known that the two of you are close (or dating!), but it’s easier for them to wrap their heads around it. This is not Malleus the prince, but Malleus, a person you find dear, and clearly adores you back.

If Leona is also in attendance and he is also a close friend of yours (or your significant other), expect a gift measuring contest. Yes, they’re mature, but they’re also boys in a boarding school. Enough said.

Malleus… honestly does not know how to party it up! unlike most of your guests probably do. Most celebrations he’s attended are terribly formal, or more festival as opposed to party, but with some observation on his part and guidance from you and/or Lilia, or whoever he decides to ask, you can probably get him to fit in well enough. When in Rome, do as the Romans do, after all.

Ah, but there’s no need to coddle him. As much as he enjoys time with you, he can manage on his own. He’s not the best at communicating but he was not born yesterday either. The day is about you and he is certain he is not the only one who wants to celebrate you, so go along and talk to everyone else. You are allowed to simply return to him when you’re done.

The fact that he’s trying, even when he’s not the most successful, is quite sweet.

In terms of gifts, Malleus is a good gift giver. Knowing who you’re giving a gift to so that you can best appeal to them is important in maintaining and forging diplomatic relations.

He remembers the things you’ve told him about yourself, about what you happen to like—of course he does, considering you actually listen to him talk about gargoyles, so he chooses a gift based on that. And even when he gets an idea, he spends a good amount of time pondering what specifically to get you. 

If someone teaches him how to order online, or someone does it for him, and you’ve shown interest, he’s getting you your very own special artifact… a Gao-Gao Dragon-kun (EN: Drago). Predictable, but still cute.

If you and Malleus are together, he’s obviously serious about you and definitely sees a future with you. Sees no problem in giving you more than a few gifts, but if you really insist on just one, well…

Jewelry is a traditional, and perhaps expected, gift from him. Obviously high quality, with the finest jewels and crafted with real silver or gold, whichever suits you best. Might get it crafted for you specifically, but he might also give you an ancient piece (or set), one with history and meaning behind it.

If you’re not into jewelry, it’ll probably still be something shiny, probably still bejeweled and created with the most precious of metals, something you can keep around you—a bookmark for the current book you’re reading, a hand mirror, a tassel on your bag. 

If you allow him, he’s going to attach a spell on it as well, just a little something to keep you safe.

Honestly, if you just make a request about something hard to find (but in his scope, particularly something more vintage or considered ancient these days), he’ll be able to procure it. If you’re human, will probably say something like, Fufufu, how bold of you to make requests from a fae. Are you prepared for the fate that would befall you should you not prepare something in return?

He says that knowing the price was already paid, a.k.a. getting to celebrate with you.

In conclusion, time may flow a little differently for someone like Malleus, but because it’s the day you were born, he takes special care to track the days leading up to your birthday. Yours is one celebration he will not allow himself to miss.

SILVER

Silver, if you tell him, makes it a point to remember your birthday (especially if you’re someone special to him, but even as a friend — or even a friend of a friend — he does remember). However, if you don’t tell him in advance, he gets concerned that he fell asleep while you were telling him about it. 

Whatever it is, while he would never get upset with you, he would still appreciate a clarification that no, this really is the first time you’re telling him about it and he wasn’t being insensitive or anything of the sort. A gentleman to his very core.

Similar to Sebek, due to Silver’s training, he’s a good choice if you need assistance in setting up your party. Even if you’re not from Diasomnia, he’s politely excusing himself in your dorm as he helps you (and anyone else helping you) with lifting tables and chairs around, or lifting boxes of ingredients to be used in cooking, or lifting– basically, he lifts a lot.

Feel free to drag him along to cook with you, even though he and others are mentioning that the birthday celebrant shouldn’t be cooking their own birthday meals. Whether he convinces you to stay out of the kitchen or not, Silver’s putting his effort into making something you’d like… as well as practicing making meals for someone.

According to him, he has practice when it comes to baking cookies because he tried to make some for his father when he was younger, so he might make some for you.

Throughout your party he really does his best to stay awake to celebrate with you. You and everyone else think fate or some deity out there must have taken a shine on him because he does stay awake, always managing to catch himself before he falls asleep.

He’s not exactly the type to dance the night away with you (although if you would like a slow dance away from prying eyes, he might just be up for it if he happens to like you), nor is he as competitive as some of your other guests, but he’ll join a few select party games… of which he likely got dragged into by Sebek (trying to challenge him) or Kalim (for that second-year solidarity).

Silver is just willing to go along with whatever you want to do for your birthday. Since Silver doesn’t exactly have the luxury of time most days, this is a great opportunity to hog him for yourself for an impromptu hangout/date! 

And he really does mean anything. Do you want to go to town to visit a cafe or restaurant? Do you want him to take you horseback riding? Just hang around somewhere on campus and talk? Your word goes!

Let’s hope you’re not afraid of small and cute forest creatures because if you’re Silver’s close friend or lover, the little birds and the squirrels are going to drop by to give you a gift. It’s very much a “because Silver likes you, the animals like you by association” thing.

Silver’s one of those people who don’t care too much about keeping the gift a surprise, even as his significant other. If he’s unsure, he’ll ask you what you want — it can be specific or something general, and he’ll select a gift based on that. 

What he lacks in the element of surprise he makes up for in presentation — the gift wrapper he uses is very pretty and neatly done, and when you read the tag you’ll find his note to be, while formal, still full of heart. He’ll prepare flowers as well if you happen to like them! He seems quite serious at first when he gives you a gift, but after a few seconds he eases into a smile that’s very charming and prince-like.

(The only time he’d be a little clueless about what to do is if you were his father’s significant other and the two of you weren’t close. What should he give you? He feels like he’s in a weird position, having to ask his father about what he could possibly give you.)

To conclude, while Silver is normally quite serious, he goes out of his way to make your birthday as pleasant as possible, and it seems that everything really does go right for him — he manages to not fall asleep in front of you, he’s smiling more than he usually does, and he devotes the day to you as opposed to training. 

He doesn’t even seem to realize that his charms have been dialed all the way up to the point that it’s a little blinding to the untrained eye, but as his friend or significant other he’s a much appreciated presence and sight.

SEBEK ZIGVOLT

Dramatic baby boy. As an acquaintance he doesn’t particularly care if you tell him about your birthday a month before or on the day of… unless you’re friends with his Young Master Malleus or Master Lilia, in which case he does wonder how worthy you are to be their friend, but will pass on the message. 

As a friend will pretend he doesn’t care that much, but definitely remembers your special day if you tell him in advance. Strolls up to your party like “you’re not celebrating hard enough, good enough! You need my assistance, don’t you?”

Also if you invite him as a friend, his immediate assumption is to wonder if you’re telling him to get Malleus to come to your party as well, or to put in a good word about you to Malleus, or —

Has a bit of a hard time wrapping his head around that you might actually want him around not for Malleus related reasons. Have patience with him, please.

If you’re a close friend or significant other, he definitely wants to know in advance. He seems haughty, and to an extent that’s true, but the idea of failing someone important to him (e.g., Malleus, and in this case you), or not being good enough, both of those scare and motivate him simultaneously. He wants to prepare something special for you.

If you’re close, he freaks out if he finds out the day of. It sounds like he’s blaming you but his brain is already working twice as fast, wondering what preparations he can make and how he can celebrate with you. He disappears and you wonder what he’s up to, he’s actually asking for permission to skip some of his duties for the day. 

Strong boy! If you need help making the preparations, he is certainly one of the guys you can go to. He’s physically strong and an expert at running around all over the place (because of constant Malleus searching), so he’s a solid choice for an errand boy. 

Sebek and art… he can appreciate it well enough, but creation isn’t his forte. If you ask him about how to decorate and what looks nice, he’s either relating it to something to do with Briar Valley or Diasomnia, or, at the best case he’s relating it to the decor he saw his parents and siblings put up for his birthday parties.

Competitive. Whatever birthday games you have, he’s trying to win. It’s kind of funny since he’s so tall — especially if his opponent is Jack or another tall boy like Floyd, just watching these boarding school boys fight over some silly party game you chose only to get a cheap prize you bought from an online shop in bulk.

Winner of the “loudest happy birthday greeting” contest/game no doubt. “That’s not a real game?” Well, clearly someone put it as one of the games to rig the system so Sebek gets a win.

He eats a lot! The party guest that makes you feel reassured about your food choices because of his appetite. You might notice that the food he touches the least is the one he happens to know is your favorite.

Especially if you’re close, he watches you like a hawk just to make sure you’re doing “the important birthday activities” which is singing and dancing and celebrating and eating your favorite food. 

If you’re in a relationship, your guests may notice that he’s barely said a peep about Malleus today. Actually, hasn’t he just been praising you all day? The first years probably tease him about it, and won’t stop for a while (a.k.a., until they find something new to joke about, as most friend group inside jokes work)

Gifts… if you’re not that close, not quite friends, he really does think you’re just there to worm your way into his heart to get to Malleus, so he just offers to talk to you about Malleus. If that’s what you want, go ahead and listen, but try to let him know if that’s not the case because he will not be stopped, he can go for hours.

If you’re his friend, Sebek’s honestly quite thoughtful. The gift is still very much him, either some nice stationery or a book he thinks you’d like based on your interests, but it’s a good sign that he actually does treat you as a friend and listens to you as well.

If you’re Malleus’ or Lilia’s significant other, he also gets you a gift regardless of how close you are to him. It’s a matter of respect, of course. Probably looking for a sign of approval or praise, he doesn’t want to disappoint you because that might end up disappointing Malleus/Lilia.

As his significant other, he tries to be romantic… meaning, he takes advice from Lilia and books (note: many of the books he uses as reference are quite old) on what gifts one should give their significant other. He pens letters and poems that have odd analogies and big words, even pulls out the cursive, but if you’re his significant other you’re probably already used to it. It’s certainly not the first time. 

No clue about his budget/allowance, but the type to specifically pick out something high quality, that you can keep with you for years, and practical things that he can spot you using in public as well. It fills him with a lot of pride like yes, my significant other is using something I bought! Aren’t I a wonderful partner?

Overall the more you manage to worm your way into his heart and the more he thinks of you, and the better of a birthday party guest he makes. He’s surprisingly very enthusiastic about your birthday, and is incredibly willing to take the lead to “teach you how to celebrate”.

LILIA VANROUGE

Lilia is the type of person who, even if he doesn’t know your birthday, talks like he does know it. Good at getting you to doubt yourself, if you actually told him, if maybe he has the ability to read your mind or if he overheard you while you were telling someone else. If you buy his bluff, you probably end up mentioning it casually, thinking he already knew.

“Oh yeah, I’m going to have a party tomorrow. Will you be able to drop by?”

No, Lilia did not know, but he’s definitely crashing, so thank you for inviting him.

But if you’re a close friend or partner, would definitely prefer that you tell him by your own volition as opposed to him getting the information out of you.

In terms of helping you out for your party, funnily enough he doesn’t always have the time for it, especially if it’s a last minute preparation, but he does want to help you whatever way he can! 

(He could just use magic, but that’s boring. Probably helps you hang some streamers and other aerial decorations, though)

Honestly, controversial opinion, I think you should let him in the kitchen (with supervision from you), especially if you’re not low on ingredients or anything of the sort. Not for all the food or anything, maybe a dish or dessert that interests him (or something with beans, because, you know… Master Chef Lilia). It’ll probably be a fun experience! The worst that can happen is that he sucks and gets a laugh out of you (if he makes you eat the food… just say you’re saving it for the party or something)

During the party itself he, Cater, and Kalim are singing happy birthday and dancing around. Definitely pulls you along to dance, it might surprise you with how easy it is for him to lead you around and even dip you — just how strong is he, actually?

Take lots of pictures with him and get them developed! Give him some as well! Sure his memory isn’t failing him, but he does want something tangible to remember a special day by.

In terms of gifts, it will depend on how “dear” you are to him. It should be a given that regardless, he will give you a “cute and cool, charming, boyish” gift. Maybe it’s a cute trinket with a mascot from Briar Valley/a game you happen to like, or a hairpin or tie with bat charms and ribbons attached to it, a choker or some other accessory in black or pink, something that screams, “you know what? this is on brand for Lilia/doesn’t this remind you of Lilia?”

Definitely gives it to you while he’s hanging upside down. Unless he knows you’ll be upset/mad, will also try to surprise you by popping up out of nowhere to greet you.

Not to be too redundant but food cooked by him is always a possibility. It’s the thought that counts, after all (though if you taste it, you’d find yourself surprised that it actually tastes quite good. He must have either asked for help or was particularly careful in cooking, maybe someone had to go through taste testing until he arrived on a “perfect” dish)

If you’re Silver’s significant other and you know about the fact that he’s Lilia’s father, he’s offering to show you Silver’s baby pics as a present (+ some stories to accompany it), and if it’s really serious he probably getting you something meaningful, maybe a nice accessory that reminds you of Silver’s eyes… or has a protective charm on it. Silver adores you, so he takes care of you by association. You might as well be one of his already.

If you don’t know he’s Silver’s dad, still gets you something anyway. It’s funnier if you’re not close to Lilia at all, like a “huh, Lilia got me a birthday present. Do you have any idea why, Silver?” moment

This probably also extends to an extent with Malleus, as Lilia’s very glad that spring has finally come for him, and even Sebek. Maybe not in the Silver level, but you do get some nice stories from their childhood, and maybe some advice 

If you and Lilia are close friends or in a relationship, your gift might come from a different land (and honestly, a different time), something with a culture and history behind it, one that Lilia can tell you all about. He’s an engaging storyteller, he talks like he was there when the item was crafted, or that he was the one who picked it up from some battlefield years ago. 

Lilia likes an element of surprise in his gifts, and if he jokes about getting you some object or decoration five times your size you have to wonder if he’s joking at all.

Especially if you’re in a relationship or his “platonic soulmate”, he gets a little… sentimental, particularly when everyone’s left the party. It might not be that obvious in his facial expression, but you can definitely pick up on it in his tone — rather, he lets you pick up on it. This especially applies if you’re human. He pushes aside the usual teasing compliments and jokes about his age to make way for more serious and meaningful praise and compliments.

Overall, compared to you, Lilia’s had a significant amount of birthdays, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t see the value of celebrating them. He finds life to be something precious, especially the lives of his loved ones, so he pulls out all the stops to make sure your special day is a happy and memorable one.

If you don’t have any plans to go on a date with anyone (in which case Ace will complain about how you should put your bros before your you knows), the rest of your evening is reserved for the first years to celebrate — meaning, you, Ace, Deuce, Jack, Epel, Ortho, Sebek, and of course Grim. 

When they’re telling their Dorm Leaders and Vice Dorm Leaders about it (well, all of them except Jack. He doubts Leona really gives a damn where he’ll be), they’re like Oh no, we’ll definitely be back in our dorm rooms to go to bed! 

They won’t be. Riddle can see a sleeve of Deuce’s pajamas peeking from his bag, and Trey saw Ace opening a new box of toothpaste in the bathroom. It’s your birthday, so they’re going to let curfews and rules and whatnot slide this time.

Vil just has that motherly instinct so he knows Epel is going to stay up all night and fall asleep on some couch or unclean floor, so he simply instructs the lilac-haired boy to bring his night routine skin care products. Whether Epel actually uses it is a problem for the Vil of the future.

Sebek is just… a very obvious boy, who’s oblivious to the fact that he’s obvious. Lilia can read him like a book, and really has to spend a few minutes convincing him that no, he’s not abandoning his duties to the Young Master Malleus by having one (1) sleepover at a friend’s place. Malleus isn’t going to get in trouble tonight of all nights. Sebek only lets go of his reluctance when the Diasomnia Dorm Leader gives his approval.

Ortho’s probably the only good boy who actually just says it straightforwardly to Idia — there’s a 99.99% chance it’ll become a sleepover, so he asks his brother to help him prepare. 

Idia’s occasional sweet moments (that aren’t reserved just for Ortho) shine through. Aside from some party and board games, he loads Ortho’s bag with a bunch of unhealthy snacks. That’s what people eat in sleepovers, right? 

If people thought the first years were being particularly troublesome during your party, that was them holding back. When you choose to enable them? When they’re away from the eyes of their dorm leaders? They’re far worse, far more chaotic. 

(Although they all think they’re the most reasonable one in the group, the one with the most brain cells. Other than Ortho, they all lose brain cells when they’re together, bless them. As for Ortho, he just chooses not to use his big brain for the sake of having fun)

This includes Jack and Sebek, who genuinely just need a push to let loose. Competition is the easiest way for the both of them to relax and have fun. Especially Sebek. Yes, he WILL (try to) defeat everyone in a silly human game of TWSTer what about it?

Ortho is 100% the banker in TWST’s Monopoly equivalent. He’s the one stopping Ace from getting a few extra bills from the bank (because yes, they’re playing the old version with the bills and not the inferior credit card version). They also all have different understandings of the rules so they spend a good 10-15 minutes settling on which to follow and which rules they’re making up.

They have a good amount of food for the sleepover, from your leftovers from your party earlier in the day, to whatever food everyone else managed to bring. The only one who doesn’t bring any is Sebek, and he says everyone should be grateful he didn’t bring any, for reasons more obvious to him than anyone else.

It’s wiped out by sunrise though. Mostly because of Grim and Sebek.

They start a not-too-serious fight at some point, where you are obviously the one recording everything with your phone (or developing photos with the Ghost Camera). 

It’s Ace, Deuce, and Epel obviously, with Sebek yelling at them about their rowdiness (while not stopping them), Ortho making predictions about who will come out on top (also not stopping them), Grim laughing loudly while munching on food (obviously not stopping them), and Jack sighing deeply (stopping them… eventually)

Ace taps out first, lol. Everyone roots for Epel. 

The obligatory two in the morning truth or dare game involving everyone’s damaged egos and social media pages, and their seniors questioning them about what the hell happened last night and why did the prefect post a picture of you doing… the morning come.

Ace, Deuce, Epel, Grim are definitely the dare people. Ace in particular is all dares because he thinks people who pick truth are boring (in truth, he just doesn’t want to spill embarrassing stories about himself… which is a sentiment that doesn’t last that long)

Ortho is a mixed bag who alternates between truth and dare, but no one really goes that hard on him. Ortho still gives really interesting stories (most of which involve Idia) that make everyone go huh!

Jack and Sebek are truthers, but they do end up doing a dare or two if they don’t want to answer any particularly personal (or embarrassing) questions

(If you happen to be dating one of them… or, excluding Ortho and Grim, you’re dating multiple/all of them/y’all are a polycule, well, truth or dare gets even worse, but in a fun way!)

The truth or dare game is followed by the just as obligatory three in the morning heart-to-heart session where everyone gets embarrassed about the past and contemplates about their futures, and everyone also cries a little (or a lot, but no one’s going to admit that) 

Followed by the four in the morning passed out on the floor all huddled up for warmth because everyone was too lazy to get in a bed or on a couch.

To wrap it all up, the first years are at their most powerful and embarrassing when they’re all together but they’re also the only group ever, go stan the first years thank you.

masterlist

and we're done! while these hcs aren't my most... eloquent writings, i still had a lot of fun, and it was really cute seeing people in the tags/reblogs talk about how their birthdays were coming up/had just passed and that they enjoyed reading/were going to read it on their birthdays. so so cute!

hey so Riddle dislikes it when people make fun of him for his height and he gets super angry, so what’s he do when his crush who is taller than him by a couple of inches, be it male or female, and crush is calmly like “you’re 5’3 right? Why not just take their kneecaps or kick them in their balls if they annoy you so much about it?” ( 😂 he’s never been in a physical fight in his life and I don’t think using his short height to his advantage has ever occurred to him. Crush encouraging a new sort of wrath on the tweels)).

Riddle Rosehearts was fuming. Again.

The Tweels had been particularly insufferable today—Floyd crouching dramatically to pat his head, and Jade making a suspiciously polite remark about “how hard it must be to assert one’s authority from such a low altitude.”

He’d nearly given himself an ulcer biting his tongue, only letting out a withering, “That is enough out of you two!” before storming off with his dignity as intact as it could be.

You found him pacing in the rose garden, mumbling under his breath and looking very much like he was seconds away from reenacting a guillotine scene with hedge clippers.

“Bad day?” you asked, leaning against a column casually. You were a few inches taller than him—not that it ever bothered you.

“Those eels—!” Riddle snapped, gesturing furiously with his arms. “I cannot understand why everyone insists on mocking me for my height! I am not a child! I am the Housewarden of Heartslabyul!”

You blinked at him. Then tilted your head.

“You’re 5’3”, right?”

His eye twitched. “Yes, and if you must bring that up—”

“I’m just saying,” you shrugged calmly, “if people are giving you grief about it, why not just take their kneecaps or kick them in the balls?”

Riddle stared. Visibly short-circuited. “I—I beg your pardon?!”

You smiled a little, nonchalant. “I mean, logically speaking, your height gives you the perfect angle. You don’t even need to aim that hard. A swift move and boom—problem solved. Think of it as strategic retaliation.”

He looked appalled. “That’s—that’s barbaric! I’ve never—I’m not a street brawler! I resolve disputes with rules! And logic! And—”

“But Riddle,” you interrupted sweetly, “you’d be so efficient at it.”

He paused.

“…Efficient?”

You nodded, utterly serious. “You could weaponize their assumptions. No one sees it coming from someone who quotes dorm rules and drinks tea with pinky out. Floyd crouches to mess with you? Just go for the knees. Jade tries to be snide? Ball tap. Bam. Lesson learned.”

Riddle looked down at his gloved hands. Then back up at you.

“…I could probably knock Floyd’s balance off if I timed it right…”

You nodded. “Exactly. You’re small but mighty. Tactical. Like a magical landmine.”

He flushed, torn between scandal and curiosity. “That’s… absurd. And completely against school policy.”

“…But you are a rule enforcer,” you pointed out. “Technically, you’d just be punishing them for misconduct. Just... with more spice.”

He made a strangled sound.

Later that week, Floyd tried the head-patting thing again.

Riddle didn’t actually kick him in the balls.

But he did jab his wand directly into the side of Floyd’s knee with the kind of force that made the eel slump to the floor like a sack of eels and wail, “Shrimpy what did you TELL HIM?!”

You sipped your tea from the sidelines.

Riddle didn’t smile.

But he did look... significantly less furious.

𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐢 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐞 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕.

pairing: dream of the endless x f!reader

a cursed mortal, a lonesome Dream Lord, and a story spanning one thousand years.

content warnings: angst, slowburn/slowbuild, mutual pining, dream being dream.

⏳ playlist | corinthian & wanderer playlist | pinterest board | inspo tag & asks | ao3 |

🌙  CHAPTER INDEX

YEAR 0-200

YEAR 200-300

YEAR 304

YEAR 304-521

YEAR 522

YEAR 522-619

YEAR 619-850

YEAR 916-994

YEAR 1021 I

YEAR 1021 II

BEYOND.

➥ BONUS CONTENT:

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ ONE SHOTS:

inside of you, in spite of you ⋅⋆ ── [the corinthian-centric one shot, coming soon]

midas touch ⋅⋆ ── [dream & wanderer smut, coming soon]

dreamfalling into nightmares ⋅⋆ ── [corinthian & wanderer, dreamfall]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ DRABBLES/BLURBS:

"I wonder what I look like in your eyes."

"I broke my rules for you."

“My heart is so full of you I can hardly call it my own.”

“You were worth the wait.”

"If I kissed you, I don’t think I’d be able to stop."

“I don’t think you understand the… effect you have on me.”

when wanderer met destruction

goodbye, stardust.

s t a y.

"lady dream."

currently accepting headcanon/drabble requests and discussions for this series, feel free to send something in!

P.S. I do not do tag lists, if you want to keep up with this fic, please bookmark this post or follow me directly, thank you.

---

Falling Behind

Synopsis: The Prefect has ADHD and was medicated for it back in their old world, but when they go to Crowley for help getting a diagnosis here, he brushes them off. They proceed to struggle until finally breaking down. (+ Crewel basically steps up as a father figure)

TW: Pretty descriptive with the negative effects of The Prefect's ADHD, Talk of medication, The Prefect cries, Crowley says the usual things people who deny/downplay ADHD say, Crewel has the "Help me help you talk" with The Prefect, The Prefect cries and is overall just GOING THROUGH IT

NOTE: I went off of my experience as a person diagnosed with ADHD and medicated for it. My experience with it won't apply to everyone else with it, but rest assured this won't be a fic that portrays ADHD like a silly, goofy little quirk. (This is a pretty self-indulgent fic, tbh)

Many people who are diagnosed with ADHD and medicated accordingly have the thought cross their minds every once in a while of "Do I really need the medicine?" When you're on ADHD medication for long enough, you forget what it's like to not function at the level you do when taking it. The memories of the difficulty focusing can slip away with time and leave you doubting. You were no exception.

Key word is were.

When you got thrown into Twisted Wonderland you learned pretty quickly that the medicine in fact does help and that you in fact do need it.

But how would you even go about getting it here? You'd need a diagnosis and for that you'd need a psychiatrist and for that you'd need money (and an official identity which you did not have as an alien to this world).

You tried bringing it up to Crowley, but he brushed it off. He said the same lines you had heard 100 times before, many of which you found yourself thinking from time to time: "You just need to make yourself work. You're unmotivated." and, while he didn't say it out loud, you could clearly tell that what he was really saying was that you were lazy.

You suppose you should have expected as much. No headmage that gave two hoots about mental health would be running a school that has no student counselor.

After that interaction you had resigned yourself to the fact that you'd have to come to terms with being a student and doing schoolwork with no relief to your condition.

You tried your best, you really did. You sat at your desk for hours on end as you tried to finish a simple homework sheet, but hours passed with virtually no progress being made. You couldn't force yourself to focus. When you did your body protested. Your brain refused to allow a single proper thought to form and your eyes wouldn't focus. If you forced the issue further, it only got worse. Your brain and eyes felt somehow heavier than usual and sometimes you swore they were slowly liquifying to a goo in your skull.

You didn't bring it up to your friends. You felt weird talking about it with them. One too many times being told you were faking or doing it for attention you suppose.

Your grades began to slip. Deadlines popped up when you could have sworn you had more time. You made little mistakes you chastised yourself for. You knew the material. You knew you knew the material.

. . .so why were you messing up.

Assignments piled up and slipped through the cracks. It's not like your teachers could notice how out of character this was for you. They didn't know how well you typically functioned when medicated, and it's not like you told them about the disorder in the first place.

Each night you held back tears of frustration as you tried desperately to get any work done. You weren't one to cry easily. In fact, you hadn't cried since you got to Twisted Wonderland, and even before that it had been a while since you last allowed tears to drip from your eyes.

But everyone has a breaking point.

You had gotten so far behind on your assignments that it was decided you needed more than to simply stay in the classroom to work during lunch and you were put in after school tutoring (although it felt more like detention).

The first few weeks you managed to keep it together. You taped over the holes that chipped away into your composure and did your best to hold down the storm of emotions that thrashed violently inside of you.

Another day of after school tutoring came around. By now not even Grim was having to stay for these sessions. There were other students that were in them, but they were in a separate classroom. You knew what was happening even if nobody outright said it.

You sat in Crewel's empty classroom for the second week in a row. The clock on the wall ticked impossibly loud. Every sound around you was amplified tenfold and you could feel it wearing on you. Your arms shook in a sick combination of frustration and exhaustion as you tried in vain to get one question done.

You could feel the ugly jaws of your pent-up emotions gnashing away at your already tattered walls of composure.

Crewel sighed as you once again failed to answer the question: "Look, I really do want to help you, but in order for that to happen I need you to cooperate and listen to me. Right now, it feels like you aren't doing that."

You had had this conversation with him before; with all your teachers for that matter. You used to it. YOU WERE USED TO IT.

You chanted the phrase in your head over and over again.

"What do you not understand."

He didn't say it in a malicious way. He sounded genuine, just. . .exhausted.

He didn't know. He wasn't aware of the storm in your stomach slowly making its way to your eyes. He didn't know.

You don't blame him, but when he said those words you finally broke.

It wasn't anything grand or dramatic like you see in movies. A small catch of your breath in a short-lived attempt to hold it together and then tears. You choked on your sobs as you tried to quell them. The only thing worse than crying is crying in front of people.

Your knees curled up onto the bench, up to your chest, and you hugged them: trying to hide your face and muffle your sobs.

It was no use. Crewel already saw the tears.

He was momentarily stunned at how suddenly you seemed to break down and could only watch as your whole body shook with the sobs you were trying so desperately to hold in.

When he finally snapped out of it he was still unsure of what to do, so he did the only thing he could.

You felt his large, fluffy coat be draped over your shoulders before he somewhat awkwardly sat a comfortable distance away from you as he waited for you to calm down.

When your sobs finally quieted to small whimpers he apologized for making you cry.

You explained it wasn't his fault and, after a bit of silence, you explained to him what was wrong.

He sat with you and listened patiently as you told him about your ADHD, the trouble you'd been having since you got here, and finally recounted your interaction with Crowley.

He led you to the infirmary not far from his office, telling you he'd be back soon and to rest for the time being.

Luckily for Crewel, the headmage's office was just about as far away from the infirmary as it could be.

He could scream as loud as he wanted without disturbing you.

By the time he returned to the infirmary it was late. He was about to apologize for leaving you there so long but stopped himself.

There on the bed was your exhausted form curled up in his coat and sleeping peacefully.

The next day he asked you a few more questions, and the day after that, he accompanied you to the doctor's office. (you didn't bother asking how he managed to get you registered as an actual person)

You went through suspiciously less steps than you had back in your old world to get the diagnosis, but you just chalked it up to the fact that it was clear by your appearance that you had been going through it.

You got your medicine the same day. Wait. . .did Crewel just tell the pharmacist he was picking it up for his child?

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Blot!reader Ending -> Whilom and Gone

This is a darker story. I suggest you refrain from reading it if you're in a fragile mental stare or unable to handle darker themes.

A commotion stirs. It begins like thunder in the chest of the crowd, a crack of sound that startles and rolls, desperate hands reaching through bodies like roots seeking water in drought-stricken soil.

Someone is calling your name. Your real name.

Not the title you wore like a shroud. Not the nickname that softened your edges.

Your name.

The voice is frays—hoarse, raw with need. It claws through the noise, a tattered plea thrown into the wind as if desperation alone could stretch far enough to hold you back.

"Please—!" It breaks in the air. A sound meant to tether you, but you're already untethering.

And beside you, the Blot is still.

So still it could be a statue, if not for the shimmer of hope trembling beneath its ribs—tangled tight and thin like a string pulled to its last length. It does not speak. It does not beg. But its silence is louder than any cry.

Maybe you'll cradle it. Maybe you'll turn, take its hand, and flee the way lovers do in myth—gods and ghosts disappearing into the fog.

But you don't. Your gaze is cold—resolute. Winter-steeled.

This is the revenge you swore when you made the pact— The poison laced into your vow. The hurt you promised to deliver as penance for the ache they'd carved into your soul like a name into bark.

They wore you like sacred threat, stitched into their bones, carried you like a talisman. But they never saw the fraying. The single knot at your heart that, when pulled, unraveled the whole tapestry.

You part your lips to speak—to scorch them with words meant to blister. To scar. A final dagger honed in your ribcage for this moment alone.

But instead... You smile. And then you laugh.

It spills from your chest—thick, golden, like honey boiling in a broken jar. Sticky with truth. The most beautiful sound you've ever made—and it isn't for him.

It's for you.

In that moment—between your breath and your burning— They understand.

They understand everything.

The missed chances, the paper-cut apologies never sent, the sins they swore were harmless.

They realize how easy it had been to pretend you'd be around forever.

And now their mouths are full of words they'll never say. Too late. Too full of rot. Too small for the wound.

You watch despair bloom behind their eyes—a crack in glass, delicate and terminal. Your own eyes are distant now. Indifferent. Like a ghost staring out from behind a mirror.

Then, quietly, You turn. And you leave.

Let them sort through the ashes. Let them pick up pieces they never knew they broke. Let them wade through the guilt like a tide they thought they could outswim.

They won't change until you're gone.

Isn't that funny?

He'll pace past his own reflection now; unable to meet the eyes of the person that drove you away.

Back and forth like a metronome wound too tightly, hands busy with a sweater you left behind, folding shirts meant for a person who no longer exists. He replays the old song you used to hum—not quite right, off-key, like a spell recited by someone who doesn't believe in magic anymore.

He buys your favorite drink. Leaves it on the table. Forgets it's there until it rots. He'll search your scent in aisles of perfumeries and candles and find nothing close enough. He'll try to replace it and gag on the synthetic.

He didn't suffer for what he did. But he'll suffer now.

He'll rot from the inside you, choked on every memory left behind. A ghost haunting the life he thought you'd stay in.

And as for you— Your feet know the way before your heart does. Over uneven pavement and broken sidewalk cracks, past the tagged street sign you once pointed out with a laugh. Through shortcuts you forgot had names. Through alleys that only mattered now that they are yours again.

You look insane. Laughing in odd, foreign clothes. Wind-swept and half-feral. A missing person returned to earth, shedding fantasy like old skin.

But for once— You're not a chosen one. You're not cursed or divine. You're not a puzzle to be solved or a prophecy to fulfill.

You are someone whose coffee order is remembered by name. Someone whose favorite flower grows near the mailbox. The boy in the hall knows your favorite color. The girl at the bus stop knows your music taste.

No grand magic. No haunted past. Just faint recognition. Just warmth.

It's enough.

You return home. To the endless hum of a cheap fan, tot he familiarity of old blankets, to warm hands that grip you tight enough to shake. They don't let go—afraid you'll vanish again.

You cry over breakfast. You laugh into leftovers. You fall asleep under the weight of soft, human love—the kind that doesn't demand you perform for it.

Your home smells like that one candle you have and the smell of detergent that you can only notice when you're gone.

A thin, red scar remains on your left ring finger—an echo of a promise, a ghost of a bond once forged in blood. An artifact that once held you upright, that once puppeted your limbs like a marionette of grief. It no longer works here. It doesn't belong.

The Blot once told you the world rights itself. A broken piece returns damaged, yes—but still returns.

And here?

Here, you are whole. Your world cradles your fragile soul and repairs its shattered bones.

Your lungs no longer ache with rigor. Your heart doesn't rattle like an empty cage. You are not a ruin. You are not a corpse.

You are alive.

Let them mourn. Let them remember. Let them scream your name into the sky, scratch it into stone, weave it into stories they'll never finish. Let him wear your voice like a wound. Let your smile haunt every place you touched.

But you—

You won't remember them.

Somewhere, far from your warmth, in a school rotting beneath its golden reputation, your last laugh echoes through empty halls—an unending, unanswered whisper.

Your portrait hangs in the halls of Night Raven College—not as a saint, not as a sinner. As a question. A sigh. A shadow.

Your name is face is drawn in the corner of old textbooks, your name carved under a desk .

And in the stillest hour of the night, he hears you in the quiet— Not a scream. Not a laugh.

A sob.

He hears grief he'd been deaf to before.

And you?

You're wrapped in warm sheets, safe in a world that forgot your sins and never expected your sacrifice.

You're somebody.

Even when no one's watching. Even when you're alone.

[ENDING -> Go Home]

Go back?

Okay.

---

Overblot Gang + Rollo vs Plushies

Surely they're not jealous of a stuffed toy, right? ....right???

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle stepped into the room, exhaustion clinging to him like an unwelcome guest. It had been a day filled with chaos—Ace and Deuce were their usual disruptive selves, Heartslabyul’s hedgehogs had staged what could only be described as a minor rebellion, and the tea party had gone disastrously wrong when the tart supply mysteriously disappeared.

All Riddle wanted was to collapse into bed with you, the one person who made his world feel a little less upside-down.

But instead of finding you waiting to greet him, he found you fast asleep, curled up in the middle of the bed.

And clutching...a plushie.

Riddle froze, his hand still on the doorknob, his eyes narrowing at the offending object. It was a bunny plush, worn and clearly well-loved, nestled securely in your arms. Your cheek rested against its soft head, your lips slightly parted in a peaceful slumber.

For a moment, Riddle just stared. Then the tiniest flicker of jealousy ignited in his chest.

It’s just a stuffed toy, he told himself, but the longer he looked, the more irrational his thoughts became.

Why is it getting your affection while I’m here, alive, and far more deserving?

He shook his head, trying to dispel the ridiculous notion, but the sight of you snuggling the plushie like it was the most precious thing in the world made his face heat up.

“This is absurd,” he muttered under his breath, but his resolve only grew stronger.

Quietly, carefully, he crept closer to the bed, his eyes fixed on the plushie. His plan was simple: extract the bunny and take its place. Surely, you’d prefer your boyfriend over a stuffed toy.

He reached out, his fingers brushing against the plushie’s soft fabric. Just as he began to tug it free, your eyes fluttered open.

“Riddle?” you mumbled, your voice thick with sleep.

Riddle froze like a thief caught in the act, his face turning as red as his hair. “You’re awake!”

“I am now,” you said, a teasing smile tugging at your lips as you noticed the bunny in his hand. “What are you doing?”

“I was—” He struggled to find a reasonable explanation, but his traitorous blush gave him away. “You were holding it so tightly, and I thought perhaps you’d be more comfortable with me instead.”

You blinked at him for a moment before breaking into a laugh, soft and warm. “Riddle Rosehearts, are you jealous of my plushie?”

“I most certainly am not!” he spluttered, though the way he avoided your gaze told a different story.

“You are!” you said, sitting up and holding the plushie close. “You’re jealous of Bunny!”

Riddle groaned, burying his face in his hands. “This is mortifying.”

“Don’t worry, Bunny,” you cooed, deliberately making it worse. “Riddle doesn’t understand how much you mean to me.”

“Give me that!” Riddle reached for the plushie again, but you held it just out of reach, giggling as he tried to maintain his dignity while grappling with a stuffed toy.

Finally, you relented, setting the plushie aside and wrapping your arms around him instead. “I’m just teasing. You know you’re my favorite, right?”

He sighed, leaning into your embrace despite his embarrassment. “I don’t know why I let myself get worked up over something so silly.”

“Because you’re adorable,” you said, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Riddle’s blush deepened, but this time, he didn’t try to hide it. “Just...promise me you won’t replace me with a toy.”

You grinned, cupping his face in your hands. “Never. You’re too cute to replace.”

And with that, you pulled him into a kiss, his earlier jealousy forgotten as he melted into your affection. The plushie sat abandoned at the foot of the bed, no match for the warmth and love you gave so freely to the one who truly deserved it.

Leona Kingscholar

Leona slammed the door to your shared room, the sound of it echoing through the space. His day had been one giant pile of nonsense—from an annoying meeting he didn’t even want to attend to Ruggie disappearing when he needed him to take his place. And let’s not even talk about that one random pigeon that had the audacity to poop on his shoulder during his walk back to the dorm.

All he wanted now was the comfort of your presence and the luxury of using you as his personal pillow while he finally got some peace.

But when he turned to the bed, his sharp emerald eyes caught sight of you curled up against something that was decidedly not him.

You were cuddling a lion plushie, of all things, as you read a book. The toy was tucked snugly in your arms, and every now and then, you absentmindedly stroked its mane while flipping the pages.

Leona froze, his ears twitching in irritation. What in the world is that thing doing in my spot?

You glanced up when you noticed him standing there, his face an unreadable mask of simmering annoyance. “Oh, hey, Leona,” you greeted cheerfully, holding up the plushie. “Look! Isn’t this cute? I found it earlier, and it reminded me of you.”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he crossed the room in a few swift strides, grabbed the plushie from your arms, and unceremoniously hurled it across the room. It landed with a pathetic little plop in the corner.

“Leona!” you exclaimed, half-shocked, half-amused. “What was that for?”

He flopped onto the bed beside you, pulling you into his arms with a huff. “That stupid toy’s been hogging my place all day,” he grumbled, burying his face in your neck. “I don’t need competition in my own bed.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, threading your fingers through his hair as he tangled himself around you like an oversized, grumpy cat. “Leona, it’s just a plushie. Are you seriously jealous of a stuffed animal?”

“I'm not jealous,” he muttered, tightening his grip around your waist. “I’m the only lion you need.”

“Aw, poor baby,” you teased, tilting his chin up so you could look him in the eyes. “Do you feel neglected? Should I make it up to you?”

Leona raised an eyebrow, though the corner of his lips twitched upward in a smirk. “Damn straight, you should. Start with those kisses you owe me.”

With a laugh, you leaned down and kissed him softly, your hands cradling his face. He hummed in satisfaction, his earlier annoyance melting away as you continued peppering his cheeks and forehead with affection.

“Better now?” you asked, grinning against his skin.

“Hmm,” he replied, sounding almost lazy, though his arms stayed firmly locked around you. “Still annoyed that you thought some stuffed toy was good enough to take my place, but I guess I’ll survive.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you said, shaking your head but snuggling closer to him.

“And you’re mine,” he murmured, pulling the blanket over both of you. “Now shut up and get comfortable. You’re my pillow tonight.”

You didn’t mind one bit, letting him rest his head on your chest while you stroked his hair. The plushie in the corner could wait—your favorite lion was right where he belonged.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul walked into your shared room, exhaling a sigh that carried the weight of a long, exhausting day. Between renegotiating contracts with customers, juggling lounge finances, and—most harrowing of all—keeping Floyd and Jade from causing a full-blown diplomatic incident, he was done.

All he wanted now was the comfort of your embrace and the chance to leave the chaos of the Mostro Lounge behind.

But when he stepped into the room, his eyes landed on you sprawled on the bed.

You were curled up with an octopus plushie of all things, the game console in your hands forgotten as you absently squished the toy. It had an oddly familiar round head and floppy tentacles that dangled off the side of the bed.

Azul froze in the doorway, blinking at the scene in front of him. His sharp mind began firing off thoughts at record speed.

Is that... me? No, of course not. But you’re cuddling it. You’re smiling. Does it remind you of me?

He frowned as another realization hit him like a cold wave.

Am I... jealous of a goddamn plushie?

Clearing his throat, he stepped further into the room. “What’s this, my dear?” he asked, voice smooth but laced with suspicion.

You glanced up and beamed at him. “Oh! Welcome back, Azul!” You held up the plushie as if presenting a priceless artifact. “Isn’t this cute? I found it earlier and thought it looked a little like you.”

Azul’s composure faltered for a split second, his cheeks tinging pink. “You think an oversized toy resembles me?”

“Well, yeah,” you said, tilting your head innocently. “It’s an octopus. And it’s adorable.”

Azul adjusted his glasses, hiding his expression. “I see.” He hesitated before clearing his throat again. “It seems you’re quite attached to it.”

You hummed in agreement, giving the plushie another squeeze. “It’s so squishy and comforting to hold while I play.”

Azul’s eyebrow twitched. “Comforting, is it?”

He walked to the bed, sitting down beside you with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Darling, might I propose a trade?”

“A trade?” you repeated, trying not to laugh at how serious he looked.

“Yes,” he said smoothly. “That plushie for... well, anything you desire. Perhaps a free full course meal at the lounge? Or a favor of your choosing?”

You raised an eyebrow, setting down your console. “Are you trying to make a deal with me over a stuffed toy?”

Azul’s cheeks darkened. “Of course not. I simply thought you might prefer a more... meaningful source of comfort.”

It clicked, and a mischievous grin spread across your face. “Oh. Oh, I see what this is.”

“What are you implying?” he asked, straightening his tie even though it wasn’t out of place.

“You’re jealous of the plushie,” you said, leaning toward him with a teasing glint in your eyes.

Azul sputtered, adjusting his glasses again. “Jealous? Don’t be absurd. Why would I—”

“Aw, Azul,” you cooed, cutting him off as you set the plushie aside and wrapped your arms around his neck. “You should’ve just said you wanted to be my cuddle buddy. You’re my favorite octo-mer, after all.”

His ears flushed deeper as he tried to maintain his dignity. “Well, of course I am. There’s no need for comparison.”

“Good,” you said, pulling him down onto the bed and into the position the plushie had been occupying moments ago. You rested your head against his chest, a satisfied smile on your face. “Because this is way better than some squishy toy.”

Azul relaxed, his arms wrapping around you as a content sigh escaped his lips. “Naturally,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

From the corner of the room, the plushie sat forgotten. Azul glanced at it once and smirked. You’ll never take my place again.

Jamil Viper

Jamil shuffled down the dorm hallway, exhaustion radiating off him in waves. The day had been a whirlwind of chaos—cooking for Kalim’s impromptu banquet, mediating arguments between students, and narrowly avoiding another wild scheme involving magic carpets.

All he wanted was to collapse on the bed he shared with you. That you’d be there was just the cherry on top.

He pushed the door open, ready to greet you—only to stop dead in his tracks.

You were curled up on the bed, scrolling through your phone with a peaceful smile. But it wasn’t just you. No, you were wrapped snugly around a snake plushie.

Its long, noodle-like body coiled over your lap as you absently hugged it closer, your cheek pressing against its soft fabric.

Jamil’s eye twitched.

He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, and stared at the scene with growing annoyance.

You look so happy... with a plushie.

“Hey, Jamil!” you greeted cheerfully, glancing up from your phone. “Welcome back. Long day?”

“Mm,” he hummed, walking toward the bed with a carefully neutral expression. He sat down stiffly at the edge, his back to you.

“Everything okay?” you asked, noticing his unusually curt demeanor.

“Fine,” he replied, voice clipped.

You frowned, putting your phone down. Wrapping your arms around his back, you rested your chin on his shoulder. “You sure? You seem… off.”

“I’m fine,” he said again, though his tone didn’t convince either of you.

You squinted at his turned profile, the faintest flush dusting his ears. He wasn’t looking at you—or, more specifically, at the snake plushie you still held loosely.

Then it clicked.

You smirked, leaning closer. “Wait a second. Are you… jealous of the plushie?”

His shoulders tensed, and he immediately scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Oh my gosh, you are jealous!” you teased, letting go of the plushie entirely to wrap yourself fully around him. “You hate my noodle friend, don’t you?”

Jamil turned slightly, just enough to glare half-heartedly at you. “It’s not— I don’t— It’s a toy,” he huffed, the flush on his face deepening.

“A very cute toy,” you said with a grin, nuzzling your cheek against his. “But not as cute as my boyfriend.”

Jamil stiffened as you started peppering kisses along his jawline. “Stop,” he mumbled weakly, his resolve clearly crumbling.

“Why?” you asked innocently, kissing the corner of his lips before moving to his neck. “You’re so much better than any plushie. You’re warm and handsome and smell nice…”

He finally cracked, turning to face you fully with an exasperated sigh. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“Mm, but you love me anyway,” you said with a laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Jamil gave you a tired but affectionate look, letting himself melt into your embrace. “Maybe.”

You smiled, pulling him down onto the bed with you. As he settled into your arms, the plushie forgotten on the floor, you whispered, “You’ll always be my favorite noodle.”

He groaned, burying his face in your shoulder to hide his embarrassed grin. “You’re never going to let me live this down, are you?”

“Never,” you said, pressing a kiss to his temple.

And Jamil, despite his protests, felt a sense of peace he hadn’t experienced all day.

Vil Schoenheit

Vil returned to his dorm room with a sigh of relief, the stress of the day clinging to him like stage makeup. The auditions, the photoshoots, and Epel’s ongoing refusal to use skincare—it had been a lot.

What he wanted now was simple: your company, your warmth, and the soothing routine of winding down together before bed.

However, when he stepped inside, his poised demeanor wavered.

You were curled up on the bed, a content smile on your face, snuggled tightly against a plushie—a soft, bunny-shaped one at that.

Vil froze, one hand still on the door handle.

It’s just a plushie, he told himself. A mere inanimate object.

But as he watched you absentmindedly rub your cheek against the bunny’s floppy ear, he felt… something.

Annoyance? At the plushie? Himself? You? He couldn’t even tell.

Brushing off the irrational jealousy bubbling in his chest, Vil set his things down and began his evening routine. He didn’t mention the plushie or the way it seemed to taunt him with its undeserved place in your arms.

You looked up with a warm smile. “Hey, Vil. How was your day?”

“Busy,” he replied smoothly, glancing your way briefly before focusing on his vanity.

“You want me to pin up your hair?” you offered, already starting to sit up, plushie still clutched in one hand.

“No need,” he said quickly, voice tighter than usual.

You blinked. That was unusual—Vil always let you (only you) help with his hair. But you shrugged it off, assuming he was just tired.

As Vil carefully applied his cleanser, the plushie caught his eye again in the mirror. It was still nestled against you, smugly enjoying the attention that should’ve been his.

Halfway through his routine, he finally snapped.

With a dramatic sigh, Vil spun around, crossed the room in three graceful strides, and plucked the bunny from your lap.

“Uh—?” you started, confused, but before you could say more, Vil replaced the plushie with himself, settling across your lap as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Vil?” you asked, biting back a laugh as his weight pressed you into the mattress.

“Not. A. Word,” he warned, narrowing his eyes at your amused expression. His cheeks were faintly pink, but he composed himself quickly, picking up where he left off with his skincare routine as though nothing had happened.

You grinned, wrapping your arms around his waist. “You’re adorable, you know that?”

Vil’s hands faltered for a split second before he regained his composure. “I don’t need your commentary.”

“You’re totally jealous of the bunny,” you teased, leaning up to kiss his shoulder.

He clicked his tongue but didn’t deny it. Instead, he muttered, “Why would I feel jealous over a plushie?”

“Because you’re pouting,” you said, laughing softly.

Vil sighed, tilting his head slightly to look at you out of the corner of his eye. “I do not pout. And don’t think I’ll let you win this one.”

“Oh, I’ve already won,” you said, tightening your hold on him.

Vil shook his head, muttering something about your insufferable sense of humor, but his posture relaxed as he continued his routine.

By the time he finished, the plushie had been completely forgotten, replaced entirely by the warm, smug human wrapped around his waist.

Idia Shroud

Idia shuffled back to his room after the dorm leaders' meeting, grumbling under his breath about its sheer redundancy.

"Like they really needed me there. My tablet could've handled it. Heck, I could’ve sent Ortho in my place! It’s not like I’m ever the one making decisions… What’s the point of—"

His mumbling came to an abrupt halt as he stepped into his room and saw you on the bed.

You were curled up against a giant teddy bear, console still in hand, the screen long since dimmed. Soft snores escaped you as you nestled deeper into the plushie's arms, utterly at peace.

Idia froze, his face instantly heating up. "Wha—?! W-why is this so—?!" His hair sparked pink as he clutched his hoodie, feeling like he was going to short-circuit.

The sight was almost too much. You, looking so cute and peaceful, holding a teddy bear like it was some kind of rival stealing his spot.

He fumbled for his phone, hands shaking slightly as he snapped several photos. “For, uh, research. Totally normal behavior. Definitely not for my… secret stash.” His whisper echoed a bit too loudly in the silent room.

But now he was faced with a dilemma.

On one hand, you looked so cozy, and the last thing he wanted to do was disturb you. On the other hand… he wanted to be that teddy bear.

Idia stood awkwardly at the foot of the bed, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet, trying to decide what to do. He wrung his hands together, muttering to himself like a character weighing dialogue options.

"Option A: Let them sleep. Pros—cute and peaceful. Cons—no interaction.

Option B: Wake them up. Pros—I get attention. Cons—they might get mad."

Before he could settle on an answer, you stirred, stretching with a groggy yawn. Your eyes fluttered open, and you blinked at him standing there, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

"Idia?" you mumbled, setting the console aside. You gave the teddy bear one final pat before tossing it away and reaching out to him. "C’mere.”

His heart skipped a beat. “M-me?!”

“Obviously you,” you teased with a sleepy smile, pulling him into a hug as soon as he got close enough.

Idia practically melted into your arms, his hair shifting to a bright pink. His smugness quickly returned, though, as he realized the teddy bear had been successfully ousted. "H-heh. +1 affection point for me," he muttered under his breath, his voice a mix of pride and shyness.

You raised an eyebrow, laughing softly. “Affection point? Idia, you already maxed out your affection gauge ages ago.”

His brain short-circuited again, and he buried his face in your shoulder, muffling a squeaky, “D-don’t say stuff like that!”

“Why not?” you teased, leaning back to look at his glowing face. “You’re adorable when you blush.”

Idia groaned dramatically, his hair flaring brighter as he tried to hide behind his bangs. But despite his embarrassment, he managed to wrap his arms around you, pulling you closer.

“Fine, whatever. Just… don’t let go, okay?” he muttered, his voice soft.

You chuckled, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Not a chance.”

From the corner of the room, the discarded teddy bear sat forgotten, a silent casualty in Idia’s victorious conquest for your affection.

Malleus Draconia

It had been a peaceful evening—stars twinkling, a cool breeze wafting through the window, and the promise of a lovely stroll under the moonlight. Malleus had been particularly pleased with the weather and decided to invite you for an evening walk.

He entered the room, his usual serene expression softening when his eyes fell upon you. But then, he froze.

There you were, curled up in bed, holding a plush dragon in your arms like it was the most comforting thing in the world.

A deep rumble echoed in the distance.

You blinked, sitting up slightly. “Was that… thunder?”

Before you could ponder further, a crack of lightning lit up the sky outside, followed by the booming roar of thunder that seemed to shake the walls. You stared out the window in disbelief.

“But it was perfectly clear two minutes ago!” you exclaimed.

Turning back to Malleus, you found him standing as still as a statue, his eyes narrowed and locked onto the offending plushie in your arms. The air around him practically crackled with energy.

“Uh… Malleus?” you ventured carefully, glancing between him and the plush.

His voice was low and serious, tinged with a hint of betrayal. “Is that what brings you comfort in my absence?”

You stared at him for a moment, then at the plushie, before the realization dawned. Suppressing a laugh, you decided to play along.

“Oh no, this?” you said, holding up the plush with exaggerated disdain. “This means nothing to me.”

Malleus arched a brow, clearly unconvinced, though his eyes remained laser-focused on the dragon-shaped invader.

To really drive the point home, you dramatically tossed the plush into the corner of the room. “See? It’s nothing compared to you, my most handsome, powerful dragon.”

You spread your arms and wrapped yourself around Malleus, resting your cheek against his shoulder. His stiff posture eased almost immediately, and the thunderstorm brewing outside dissipated as if it had never existed.

“Hmm,” he hummed, his voice quieter now but still holding a touch of haughtiness. “I suppose it’s only natural. I am your favorite dragon, after all.”

“You’re my only dragon,” you said with a chuckle, leaning back to look at him.

Malleus gazed down at you, his expression softening into something tender. “Good,” he murmured, placing a hand under your chin to tilt your face up. “I would hate to compete with a mere stuffed toy for your affection.”

You laughed, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “You’re lucky you’re so cute, you know that?”

He blinked, visibly startled by the compliment, his ears tinging slightly red. “Cute? I… I do not believe ‘cute’ is the word one typically uses to describe the future king of Briar Valley.”

“Well, I do,” you said, smiling mischievously as you planted another kiss on his lips.

Malleus let out a deep sigh, though the corners of his mouth quirked upward. “You are… quite the peculiar human, my love.”

“And you wouldn’t have it any other way,” you teased.

Malleus chuckled softly, pulling you closer. Outside, the weather had returned to the calm, moonlit serenity it was before—a perfect night for a walk. Though judging by the way Malleus held you now, neither of you seemed in any rush to leave.

Rollo Flamme

After a long day of dealing with incompetent council members, insufferable students, and the lingering stench of magic in the air, Rollo Flamme was finally free. As he walked into your shared room, his shoulders relaxed slightly at the thought of seeing you. Your presence was always the perfect antidote to his day’s irritations.

But then, he saw it.

There you were, curled up in bed, holding a plush dragon that was far too detailed for his liking. Its smug, embroidered eyes glinted in the soft light, as if mocking him. Worse, it was lounging on his side of the bed.

He froze mid-step, the betrayal hitting him like a thunderbolt.

You looked up, immediately noticing his stricken expression. “Rollo? Are you okay?”

He didn’t respond, his gaze locked on the plushie with such intensity it was a wonder it didn’t burst into flames.

You tilted your head, following his line of sight. “Oh, this?” you said, holding up the dragon plush with a smile. “I won it at the arcade today! Isn’t it cute?”

Glass shattering. Dramatic violins. Betrayal.

“...A dragon,” he said, his voice low and tight.

“Yeah,” you said, hugging it closer without realizing the depth of the offense. “It’s so soft, and look at its little wings! They’re kind of shiny—”

“Does it need wings?” he cut in sharply, glaring at the plush like it had personally insulted him.

You blinked. “Rollo, are you... mad at the plushie?”

He straightened immediately, huffing indignantly. “Mad? At a stuffed toy? Don’t be absurd.”

But the way his eyes flicked back to the plush betrayed him, the subtle narrowing of his gaze screaming volumes.

You couldn’t help it—you laughed. “Oh my gosh, you are mad! Is it because it’s a dragon? Does it remind you of Malleus?”

His jaw tightened. “I do not dignify such comparisons with a response.”

You grinned, setting the plush aside. “Well, if it bothers you so much, I can just put it away.”

“It doesn’t bother me,” he lied, though his shoulders eased a fraction when you stood and picked up the plushie.

“I’ll banish it to the closet,” you teased, waving the dragon plush dramatically before stuffing it into the closet. “There, see? Gone.”

Rollo exhaled quietly, his usual stoic demeanor returning. “Good. It’s for the best.”

You walked over and wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your cheek against his shoulder “You know you’re the only one I’d ever actually want to cuddle, right?”

His ears turned red, and he cleared his throat, but his arms instinctively came up to hold you close. “I would hope so,” he muttered, though his tone softened as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

As you snuggled against him, he allowed himself a moment of peace, though his mind wandered. He would have to get you something far superior—something elegant and tasteful. Perhaps a plush raven or something equally refined. Certainly nothing with wings or scales.

You smiled against his chest, feeling the tension leave his body. “You’re not still mad, are you?”

“No,” he said quickly. “But I’ll be... keeping an eye on your choice of arcade prizes in the future.”

You laughed, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “Whatever you say, Rollo.”

Deep down, he wasn’t entirely sure if he’d won or lost this battle, but with your arms around him, he decided it didn’t really matter.

Masterlist